Anonymously Yours
by LuckyIrishGirl13
Summary: Andy will be a journalist, no matter what. Will Miranda get what she wants too?


Andy Sachs had long since given up asking her self why she continued to work at Runway. She inevitably came up with the same answer and each time she tried to prepare herself for it, but it was still a shock to her system. When or how exactly she had fallen for her critical, tyrannical, impossible to please but impossibly beautiful boss she couldn't pinpoint. But it had happened nevertheless and now she was at battle with her heart and her mind. She found herself stealing glances at the head of the fashion world with increasing frequency and she was becoming less able to adjust her gaze before being spotted. At first she was sure that the repercussions if caught far outweighed the pleasure she got from watching her but lately she wasn't so sure. She was willing to do almost anything for her editor-in-chief and she was becoming careless with her lustful gazes. She was sure that Miranda had caught her on at least two separate occasions and the fact that Miranda hadn't reprimanded her both terrified her and exhilarated her. Miranda couldn't possibly think any more of her than being slightly less disappointing than all the assistants that had come before her… right?

"Andrea". _God, when her voice dips down into that low, sultry tone I just want to… Jesus Sachs! Get a grip! Not gonna happen…not gonna happen… not gonna…. OH MY GOD!_ The sight of Miranda leaning over her desk checking out some proofs the Art Department had brought up stopped Andy in her tracks. Her stomach did a few somersaults and her breath got caught in her throat as she stared at the expanse of creamy skin exposed underneath the crisp white shirt that Miranda had chosen that morning. When Andy wore white she looked like a ghost but, even though they had similar coloring, on Miranda it was pure perfection. "Yes Miranda?" she said, proud that the quiver in her voice wasn't noticed by her boss.

Miranda brought her stare up to Andy's much more quickly than she had planned when she heard that slight quiver in her young assistant's voice. Surely after working for her for this long Andrea couldn't still be frightened of her so what was causing that slight twitch in her lower lip?_ That fascinating, luscious, red as a ripe cherry… Jesus Priestly… get a hold of yourself! You're a grown woman for crying out loud and far too exposed to the public's eye to afford a mid-life crisis that involves sleeping with your assistant. Right… like there would be ANY sleeping going on at-_ "Miranda?" Andrea's voice cut off her internal monologue and she looked at those questioning brown eyes and immediately put the walls back up. Andy noticed the minute the ice returned to those sparkling blue eyes and her heart fell. "Get me Isaac, confirm my dinner, make a reservation for lunch tomorrow at that place I liked last week, and I need more Starbucks. HOT Starbucks. That's all."

"Yes Miranda," Andy said showing only the slightest hint of disappointment, and walked quickly out of the devil's inner sanctum.

Twenty minutes later Andy found herself sitting at her desk with nothing to do. It was a rare luxury within the walls of Runway but Miranda had left almost the minute she had returned from Starbucks to go to a meeting with Irv and the other bigwigs to discuss next year's budget. Everyone at Runway hated meetings like these because they always meant that Miranda would be a royal bitch for a minimum of two days afterwards. Irv always gave in to her demands eventually so the reason WHY these meetings were still necessary was unknown.

Miranda would be gone for at least three hours and the schedule was surprisingly empty. They had two weeks left before Fashion Week in Paris and since planning for it was in action months ago, there were really just odds and ends to take care of this week and then there would be a general level of hysteria throughout the entire office the night before leaving making sure no detail had been overlooked or screwed up. Emily had gone out to Calvin Klein to get a sample of their latest line so Andy decided to take advantage of the peace and quiet. She unlocked the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a rough draft of an article she was working on for the New York Post. She felt a little guilty about this piece only because Page Six gave Miranda so much grief writing about her divorce(s) and her tendency to say "You're fired" more times than Donald Trump in an Apprentice marathon, but she wouldn't let that stop her. In fact, she wouldn't let anyone or anything stop her which is precisely what she had told Miranda during an argument she had had with the Editor; an argument that still caused hushed whispers among the clackers about how and why exactly Andrea Sachs still had a job. An argument that no one would even know about if Nigel knew how to keep his mouth shut. _Oh well_, Andy sighed, that was neither here nor there.

*Last month*

_The book was later than usual tonight. Andy had run out of work to do, had grown unbelievably sick of the Solitaire game on her computer, and had written a few very useless emails. She tried to keep her friends and family in the loop but truth be known, she felt pretty pathetic when she attempted to compose an emailed update on her life and she had nothing to report except long hours, no sleep, and an intense desire to fuck her boss on every surface available or imaginable. The fact that she had to keep that last part out made the emails relatively dull. Finally, at about 11:00, Marty arrived with the book breathless and full of apologies. "Don't apologize Marty… just give me the book so I can get more that 4 hours of sleep tonite!" "Right! Sorry Andy… here ya go. Good luck with the Dragon Lady." Andy realized that the sudden impulse to defend Miranda would probably be lost on the young graphic artist so she simply thanked him and practically ran out the door. She didn't bother to question why she had been about to demand that Marty call Miranda by her given name since she already had a pretty good idea. She was falling hard and fast for a woman who, in all honesty, no one could imagine doing the things that would have been required at some point to have produced her twin girls.  
_

_Andy walked in to Miranda's townhouse praying that the older woman would not be up waiting for her, demanding an explanation as to why it was now past 11:30. Andy liked Marty and she didn't want Miranda to fire him. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side and as soon as she had hung up the dry cleaning, she heard the voice coming from somewhere deep inside the residence. "Andrea? Come in here please." Since when does Miranda say please, Andy thought to herself as she searched out the location of that voice. That voice that made her breath a little harder and caused an unmistakable twitch between her thighs. Dammit. "Yes Miranda?" Andy gasped a little as the sight of Miranda in navy blue silk pajamas that made her eyes sparkle like sapphires, and her bare feet that made her just a bit more human greeted her when she rounded the corner into the den. "Andrea, I have decided that you will go to Paris with me instead of Emily. The girl is becoming increasingly forgetful and I cannot afford that level of incompetence during the most important week of my professional year." The fact that Miranda had said my professional year, implying that the Editor lived and breathed anything OTHER than Runway went right over Andy's head as she tried to process what Miranda had just thrown at her. When she had started at Runway, Emily was a constant attachment at Miranda's side. She had been the only one that Miranda trusted and now she was being thrown to the side. The fear that that could happen to her in just the same way coupled with the fact that Andy was becoming increasingly frustrated with her lack of control over her desire for her boss caused Andy to lose it. "Miranda, I can't do that! Emily would die!" Andrea exclaimed. Miranda sat back and peered at Andy over her glasses and said in that infuriatingly smooth voice "If you don't go I'll assume you're not serious about your future at Runway or at any other publication" Miranda said with a flick of her perfect silver hair and a perfectly arched eyebrow. Something in her calm manner made Andy snap. "I will succeed with or without your help Miranda. I was meant to be a journalist and damn it that is exactly what I will be. If I cross you I am sure that it will take much longer than anticipated and hell I might even have to change my name to do it but do not mistake me. I. Will. Succeed." Andy took a deep breath and nearly fainted. What the fuck did I just do??? I just TOLD OFF Miranda fucking Priestly in her own home! I'm going to die. There is no doubt in my mind that I am going to die.  
_

_A trio of emotions ran across Miranda's face; confusion, the slightest bit of respect, and anger. Unfortunately, anger won. "How DARE you come into MY home and speak to me that way Andrea. You will leave this minute and you will not return to my sight until you have come to your senses. That's ALL." Andy stood, shocked at the fact that she had just heard Miranda yell. Did that mean she actually cared or that she was as exhausted as the rest of them and could no longer keep her voice at that impossibly low octave? Whatever the case, Andy fled from the townhouse, grateful to be alive. Whether or not she still had a job… well that was another issue entirely. Andy tossed and turned for hours contemplating all the ways in which Miranda could ruin her life and her potential career. However, one very important idea stuck in Andy's head. Changing her name wasn't a half bad idea; not permanently of course but just in the beginning. She had heard of people doing it before; writing under a pen name, sending out freelance articles, and building up a solid reputation as a journalist without ever meeting with an editor face-to-face. Of course, you had to have some pretty good contacts or get very good at being in the right place at the right time, but after working for Miranda Priestly, nothing seemed impossible. She sprang out of bed and decided to use her nervous energy to get started on some research and start brainstorming some ideas. By morning she had a decent sized list composed and she went into Runway with dark circles under eyes but with a sense of something unrecognizable in her heart. She was scared of confronting Miranda but she was happy that for the first time in months she had given herself a feasible out if the demands at Runway became unbearable, or if the formidable Miranda Priestly decided she was disposable after all.  
_

_Little did Andy know, she had gained quite a bit of respect from Miranda with her little outburst. She was still annoyed and nobody better misunderstand that, but she was proud of her girl for speaking her mind when so many others simply would have backed down and agreed to her demands. Andy would have to be dealt with of course; she couldn't just have her assistants thinking they could get away with speaking to her in that manner, but she was sure that the thoughts running through her young assistant's mind all night long were more punishment than she could inflict herself.  
Her thoughts were confirmed when she caught sight of the dark circles marring her beautiful Andrea's face and she almost started to feel bad for the girl. Instead she simply called her into the office and said "Andrea. We will not discuss last night and you will not speak to me in that tone again do you understand? If you have a problem we will discuss it like the adults that we are and we will come to an understanding. Is that clear?" "Ya-Ye-Yes Miranda. Perfectly." Andrea stuttered, amazed at her luck. "That's all." "Yes Miranda." _

*Present*_  
_

Even though Miranda had seemingly forgiven her temporary moment of insanity, Andy decided to pursue the freelance writing under a pen name idea, which is why she was using this time to work on an article she had picked up for the Post. This was her fifth freelance opportunity and the first four had met a fair degree of success. She owed one to Christian Thompson who had given her a tip that lead to a major story that got her published in The Ledger. The Editor himself had sent a letter to the post office box she had rented asking her for contact information so that he could possibly use her again in the future. Andy was thrilled! The only downside to this little side project was that she couldn't tell anyone about it. Not even her parents. She couldn't risk Miranda finding out, especially this close to Fashion Week. There was no way that Miranda would forgive her for ruining Paris. The fact that her pen name, Marley Porter, contained the same initials as one Miranda Priestly was something that Andrea decided not to dwell on. It was in no way related to the fact that every time Miranda said her name her mind went blank and she ached for her in a way that she had never ached for another woman. Or man for that matter.

Thirteen days later Runway was in a state of panic. Miranda and her entourage were to leave for Paris in the morning and everything had to be perfect. Andy had decided, after Emily had indeed proved her self to be slipping, that she would accompany Miranda to Paris after all. The fact that being in the most romantic city in the world with the object of her desire made chills run up and down her spine may have had some impact on her decision as well but she wasn't admitting to that quite yet. Andy had barely slept in two days and she couldn't wait to get on the plane so that she could take a nap. They had already drawn straws and since Nigel had pulled the seat next to Miranda, Andy was looking forward to some quiet time to her self. She was becoming increasingly confused with Miranda's behavior and she was beginning to think that it was all in her head. Surely she was imagining the longer than necessary glances thrown her way by the older woman, especially when she wore something low cut or form fitting. The way that the Editor's voice had hitched during her phone conversation when Andy had walked in the room wearing the thigh high Chanel boots was surely a figment of Andy's imagination. And the "accidental" brushes of her fingers against Andy's hand when she handed her that cup of Starbucks every morning just had to be a product of an over-stimulated nervous system that was craving Miranda's touch like air. Right?

Miranda was enjoying the little game that she was playing with Andrea. She didn't even know if the girl was interested in women but she was bound and determined to find out sooner or later. She had been allowing herself to look at the girl more once she noticed that it often made Andrea blush which she found absolutely adorable. The first time that her fingers had brushed up against her assistant's hand she was shocked at the heat that she felt from that small gesture. The fact that an almost inaudible gasp had escaped from Andrea's lips at the contact gave her hope that she wasn't the only one feeling the sexual tension between them. She knew that she had to take things very slowly; she couldn't afford to scare Andrea away, or worse, embarrass herself completely if she was reading the signs all wrong. However, nearly 30 years of experience told her she was not mistaken and she planned to up her game a bit during this trip to Paris. Her first step would be to demand that Andrea sit next to her on the plane. She already knew that Nigel had drawn the dreaded seat next to hers and she was eager to see the reaction on the young woman's face when she announced the change of plans.

"Andrea." "Yes Miranda?" "You will sit next to me on the plane Andrea. We need to discuss the disaster that is my schedule on Tuesday" Miranda said with her normal amount of disinterest, but all the while very carefully watching Andrea's every move. Andrea did not disappoint her as her breath quickened ever so slightly and her eyes became wide as she stuttered "Bu-But Miranda I went over your schedule so thoroughly, what_- You never ask Miranda anything_-of course Miranda, I'll just grab my bag and head right over" Andy said as her heart began to beat a little faster and all thoughts of a nap quickly flew out the window. Miranda allowed herself a small smile as she sat in her seat and feigned disgust over a schedule that she had, in fact, ruined herself. She wasn't sure why Andrea reduced her down to playing these mind games but she had worked all of her life to gain this power over people and she was about to start using it for pleasure rather than just business all the damn time. After Andrea sat down, Miranda began to question her decision immediately. Having the girl around the office all day had, as of late, been proving to be quite a distraction but having her in this close of a proximity, smelling her shampoo, a faint hint of perfume and something that was uniquely Andrea invaded her senses and made her wonder if she was going to be capable of coherent conversation with this woman. Miranda would not admit it to herself but the reason she was not comfortable playing these games with Andrea as she had with her exes was because she wanted Andrea to be different. And she knew that Andrea deserved better. The only problem was that while Miranda Priestly had money and power to impress people, Andrea was not impressed by these things; a fact that both annoyed and thrilled Miranda. She was tired of people looking to her only for what she could do for them but she was quickly realizing that without these factors in her corner she was lost and she had absolutely no clue how to do this. Miranda Priestly had no clue how to flirt.

Miranda noticed about halfway through the trip that her Andrea looked completely and utterly exhausted. Taking pity on the poor girl and wishing her to be somewhat useful once they landed, she insisted that they stop working and rest. After all, the schedule really was fine and all Miranda had to do was put it back the way Andrea had it in the first place. The look of pure appreciation and joy on Andrea's face almost caused Miranda to smile outright but she quickly suppressed it. _Damn image_, Miranda thought grimly to herself. _Sometimes she really hated living up to her Ice Queen persona. She knew that wasn't who she really was and_ - Miranda came out of her musings when she noticed that confused brown eyes were staring at her and she realized that Andrea must have been trying to talk to her. "I beg your pardon, Andrea?" Since when does Miranda say things like that to me?? "I was just wondering if you were comfortable enough or if you'd like an extra pillow or blanket. And if I nod off please don't hesitate to wake me if you need anyth-" Miranda cut her off with a slight flick of her wrist but not in an irritated way. "Andrea, please. I am a grown woman and, unbeknownst to most of my staff, am quite capable of taking care of myself if need be. Now I would suggest you get some sleep before we land because I do not need to remind you that this is a very important week for me and I need you at your very best. That's all." "Thank you, Miranda."

Miranda was often touched by the most random things because people so rarely stopped fearing her long enough to honestly care about her that it just naturally happened. So when Andrea thanked her for something as simple as demanding that she rest, Miranda felt an odd lump arise in her throat. She resisted the urge to tuck the blanket in around Andrea's slouched form because _that_ was something she simply wouldn't be able to explain but she felt a surge of tenderness towards the girl that was unexpected. She had admitted her attraction for the young woman months ago but she hadn't expected it to go much further than that. Miranda wasn't a long term kind of person when it came to anything other than Runway and her kids. Her ex-husbands could attest to that. But with Andrea everything felt possible and that terrified her because so often when she felt like she was on the edge of something wonderful and new, the rug was pulled out from underneath her. It was a lesson she learned a long time ago in her youth and it was a very hard lesson to un-learn. However, if Andrea was willing to help her, she just might be able to try. _Enough of this kind of thinking Priestly. You don't even know if the woman likes you or can even stand you and you are acting like you're going to start building a life together. Get a grip and get some rest._

Whether it was the close quarters and the fact that Andy could smell Miranda's perfume and hear her light breathing so close to her own or the fact that she had wanted it for weeks, Andy experienced one of the most intense dreams of her life starring none other than the woman sitting next to her. The dream was so realistic that when Miranda attempted to wake her up, the editor's voice became part of her subconscious thoughts. Miranda quickly grew frustrated when speaking Andrea's name did not rouse the woman so she placed her hand on her assistant's shoulder, but before she could begin to jostle her she gasped as Andrea's hand shot out and covered her own with alarming strength. Little did she know that she was now a live guest in Andrea's dream world and she would be blushing furiously if she knew what thoughts were running through the young woman's mind. "Andrea" Miranda said in a slightly louder tone and added a quick shake of her shoulder and was finally able to wake her assistant. Andrea came to slowly and a look of terror replaced the dreamy look on her face when she realized there was a hand being held hostage under hers and it belonged to a very irritated looking Miranda. She jerked her hand away as if it had been scalded and her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of red as she stuttered out an apology. "I'm so su-sorry Miranda! I didn't realize and it was an accident and I..." Miranda stopped her with a quick raise of her hand. She definitely didn't need Andrea causing a scene, especially when her hand was still burning from where Andrea's touch had been. "Andrea, I do not understand why you insist on babbling in my presence when you know how much it thrills me. We're about to land. I suggest you buckle your seatbelt and prepare yourself. And for goodness sakes you silly girl please stop acting as though I am going to have your hand removed for accidentally touching me." Miranda sat back indicating the conversation was over leaving Andrea to contemplate what she had just heard. Miranda never talked to her like that; almost like an equal and yet like she was trying to explain something to her that she couldn't quite grasp or understand. Miranda definitely couldn't have been telling her it was ok to touch her. So then what exactly had that been all about?

Miranda wasn't quite sure where that had come from but she didn't have time to dwell on it. They were landing in Paris and the busiest and most important week of her year was about to begin. Miranda knew that this year would be one of the best simply because Andrea was one of the best assistants she had ever had and she also planned on fitting in some personal time with the girl, cleverly disguised as business of course. _Yes_, Miranda thought to herself, _this would definitely be a trip that she would remember.  
_

The first three days in Paris flew by in a blur of Prada, parties, Valentino, fabulous champagne, and an intense desire to sucker punch every man who dared to kiss Miranda's cheeks. Andy was trying desperately to convince her self that she was happy if Miranda was happy, but that was the problem. She could tell that Miranda's smiles were not reaching her eyes, they were fake; all a show for the important people for whom she had to be perfect. And the worst part was that Andy had no claim on Miranda's happiness. It shouldn't matter to her this much. She should be more upset about being in Paris for the first and possibly last time in her life without so much as an hour break to see the Eiffel Tower, instead of being upset over Miranda's emotions or lack thereof.

Miranda was not happy. Her plans to figure Andrea out had been thwarted at every turn thus far and it was causing her irritation to grow. She could hardly believe that she had given a fake smile to Valentino! Valentino!! But he had shown up just as she was about to lean over and make a remark to Andrea about her wardrobe choice for the evening, a remark she had been rehearsing in her mind all night as soon as she saw the girl enter the ballroom. She had been stunning and yet she had looked at Miranda as though she thought she might disapprove. When Miranda had given her the slight nod of her head, she thought the smile radiating off of Andrea's face would blind her. Miranda's heart had quickened its pace at the sight of that smile and she vowed to make Andrea do that more often. It was already the morning of day four in Paris and Miranda hadn't been able to secure any alone time with Andrea. She promised herself that tonite would be it. One way or another, they would get a little closer to discovering what this thing between them was, if it was anything at all. She was utterly exhausted but she pulled herself together and got ready for the day, applying her make-up and staring in the mirror for what seemed like an incredibly long time. _What does Andrea see when she looks at me? Does she see the Ice Queen, a foolish old woman, the Devil herself?_ Miranda's lips turned downward at the thought. She hadn't really cared much about what other people thought of her until now. She wasn't sure if it was because she was getting older and being alone was starting to get tiresome, or if it was Andrea who had affected this change. Either way, she decided she needed to know what the young woman thought of her; even if the answer broke her heart.

TBC…Please advise/review… I haven't had much experience writing these!


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